Which Were Not Tas's, and Which Were Not Tas's
by Three Libras
Summary: [One-shot] Fizban and Tasslehoff star in this one. And introducing, Tasslehoff's Pouch. Plus a few others: a phial, a ring, a bell, and things that say 'Tink' Draconians are taking a bubble bath somewhere in Krynn, so they can't possibly be here.


First Dragonlance PWP/One-shot fic. I have only started reading Volume 3 of the Chronicles recently, and will have finished it by this weekend, so _do_ blame me for the characters' being a bit OOC. Blame me, but not too much. I'm accepting other title ideas for this one so do make a suggestion. Read and Review. 

"Go At A Gallop Inn" is a product of my crazed imagination. Ron Weasley had said it better: "You must be nutters!" 

Characters, situations, places, and names belong to Margaret Weis and Tracy Hickman. We all owe them this. 

__

To Denise and Shadowbane, for introducing me to Dragonlance

Which Were Not Tas's, and Which Were Not Tas's

by Three Libras

On the wooden stairs of Go At A Gallop Inn, a kender hopped his way down, its long hair flapping in all directions from a knot at the top of its head. A pouch hung across his chest, producing what sounded like a metal struggling against a glass, or another metal. He didn't seem to notice the noise he was making, as much was his excitement upon meeting the company waiting by the town gate. 

The cloaked man's crude brow, upon hearing this, shot up. 

"Tasslehoff," he called from the kender's back, in the way a mother would call to her son upon finding out a broken vase. 

The kender stopped in mid-air, if that is even possible. "Yes? Oh, so sorry, I should be helping you down--" 

The old man took three easy steps down, narrowly missing one as he lifted his crooked staff from the wooden flight to Tasslehoff's music box, rather, his pouch. Interestingly, he began to poke it. There was the jingle again. 

The kender only stood and waited, not at all puzzled. Fizban doing this kind of thing was at his most normal condition. Moments ago in the Inn, the old man had taken interest in the bell that hung before the entrance, jingled it for all its worth, and had merely died in laughter when the bell made a faint tinkling sound, which, a normal bell would have created. "We share the same taste in music, Old One, I never knew."

Fizban only jingled Tasslehoff's pouch louder.

"Umh, Fizban, they're waiting at the gate. There, I see them--" Tas pointed at the bushes.

"Who?"

"Them! You were the one who told me they were coming." Tas pointed randomly. Fizban wasn't looking, anyway. "There! Can't you see Raistlin? The one in the pink cloak, waving.." Tas went on, and on, but Fizban didn't return a glance. He kept on poking. 

Finally, Fizban put his staff down. "I thought I heard something from that pouch of yours. Something familiar," he said, taking his pointy hat off. "I should like to see what is inside."

Now this was unusual. Never, ever, in their two days of being together had Fizban looked at Tasslehoff's tattered pouch the way he looked at it now. Tas, brows creasing, reluctantly did as he was told. Fizban waved his hat, motioning the kender to a nearby yard bench. The obedient kender caressed his pouch before putting both hands behind him, as a sign of courtesy.

Fizban rapped on the empty space, the kender lay his pouch. The old man rifled through it, surprised by many different things it contained. He blindly guessed the first thing that came to his touch to be a pair of glasses. Then there was a ring-shaped item, a sling bow, a phial, and only the greatest gods know how those things fit in. Then he heard the jingling sound again. He swore he heard it, but not from where he had expected it to come from.

Dazed, Fizban unloaded the pouch by turning it upside down. Bronze and silver coins rolled in every direction. And so did the phial, but Tas was not going to just stand and watch it shatter, so he dived, and saved it. Fizban started to sort the items into which were not Tas's, and which were not Tas's. None seemed to make the same sound. Disappointed, the old man fingered an invisible whisker. All this and more caused Tasslehoff's sudden outburst. 

"You are not looking for this, are you?" Tas asked. He held in his right hand a bronze, cone-shaped, obj--

"That!" Fizban pointed. 

Tasslehoff pointed at the same thing, smiling gloriously. "This?" He held between his thumb and pointer finger a bell, and amusingly shook it. 

"Yes, you miserable looter, that! How did you get--" Fizban was cut by a grunt. 

"The question is," the voice said, "_how_ did he _reach_ it?"

A dwarf emerged into view. "Usually, bells are hung where _kenders_ could not reach them." He paused to eye the old man, then back to the kender. "_Doorknob_. It must be where they hung it this time."

"I'm sure the kender didn't have a hard time!" affirmed Fizban, giggling madly. Suddenly, he stopped. "Who are you?"

"Flint! Fizban, don't you recognize the horse-hair helmet? Ow, Flint, that was my head!" 

"Yes, yes, I have seen you before," Fizban muttered to himself.

"It is Flint, you have not forgotten, have you?" Tas answered in Flint's stead. 

"But the last time I saw you, you were this tall!" Fizban's raised a palm, parallel to the ground, high above Flint.

"You mean Flint grew shorter? Amazing! How-- Ow!" Flint had apparently hit him in all the right places.

"I tell you, Tasslehoff, shutting up is easy. Trust me, I have tried it," he turned to the old man, "Fizban, we were waiting--"

"What did you call me?"

"Oh no, not again," mumbled Tas, gathering _his_ _stuff_ back to his pouch.

"Tasslehoff, that bell is not bound for your pouch! Yes, thank you."

"Fiz--nah! I said we'd better go, Tanis and the others are waiting!" Flint turned on his heel. Tas followed shortly, head turning here and there. Fizban, unmoving, shook the bell as if to check if it was still working. A smile appeared on his face. And with that, he grabbed his pointy hat and followed the two. 

Ahead, Tasslehoff had started filling Flint with the particulars (insignificant) of the town. Flint had shuddered more than once, as he had more than once heard Tas saying "It was the most wonderful thing! And..," that usually meant another addition to his pouch. But Flint had not been with the kender for so long a time, that it even occurred to him that he would give anything to hear the kender's famous phrase again. "..with Fizban, and he was so amused! He.." Flint caught piece of Tas's gibberish.

"Amused of?"

Tasslehoff glanced from his shoulder. Seeing the old man stop and stare with wide-eyes, Tas hurried on with Flint, and started when he was sure Fizban was out of earshot. "I didn't take the bell!"

Flint's eyes rolled. "Tell me about it."

"Honest!"

"Tas--"

"Seriously!"

"You are seriously honest in lying!"

"I seriously needed a stool to reach that annoying thing, but Fizban was tall enough for it, plus he was _so_ pleased with it, they could get married!"

"You mean.."

"You heard me, they will get married!"

"Not that, you headless thing on legs! You mean, Fizban stole--took it? But why?"

"He most certainly did not! He only borrowed -- see, he was so amused of.."

"Yes, yes, you have said that. If that is so, how come you had it with you?" Flint said, curtly.

"Oh, that. You see, he asked me a real dwarfish--meaning, little--favor. He said Tasslehoff, maybe you could keep this for me, little one? So then I stuffed it in my pouch without a word and the next thing I knew, he was poking at me with that ugly staff of his, and.."

"I get the idea. He must have forgotten he let you keep it," Flint said, and sighed. "Old man. Why didn't you try to remind him?"

"I was about to, then you came and your mouth started setting world record.." 

"You said I was shrinking!"

"It was Fizban who said it! Ask him!" said Tasslehoff, decisively.

"For what? He could not even remember his own name! Fizban," Flint called to his back. "You are not going to stand there forever, are you?"

Sure he was, if Flint had not called him. 

:::: 

Liked it? No? Review!

+3Libras

:: 


End file.
